Ode to the Mismatched Sock

I look at all of my siblings and it’s easy to see where each of us got specific qualities.

Chuck got Mom’s dark brown hair, but the thickness of Dad’s. Nearly all the rest of us got Dad’s coloring. Peggy and I have almost no gray even though I’m 42 and she’s…older. Then there are the Cady feet, Cady cowlicks, Matt has Dad’s nose, and the rest of us have Mom’s.

Personality traits also rear their ugly, and not-so-ugly heads. We often joke that some of us are grasshoppers, and others are ants – like in Aesop’s Fable.

The one trait both Mom and Dad had in abundance was creativity and the ability to write. Mom was an English major in college, and I believe she worked on the school newspaper. As she got older, she helped write a few plays which were performed in church, wrote songs, and the occasional poem. Dad was no literary slouch either. He made up and wrote short stories for us kids, would sing impromptu songs for us at night, and constantly imagined fun, creative, and entertaining activities. As he (and we) got older, he had more time to pursue more creative hobbies. One of which were the creation of mystery games that he and Mom worked together on. This turned into Whodunnit Mysteries, which is still going to this day, run by someone from our family. You think our stories and blogs are wacky? You oughta play one of their games.

In my laundry room, I have a reminder of Mom’s creativity hanging on the wall.

Ode to the Mismatched Sock,
written by Barbara Sawey Cady in 1982.

A sock is a sock is a sock they sayBut is that really so?If a pair of socks is a pair of socksThen tell me where they go?A pair is two I do believe

One left and one that’s right. And they’re not one unless there’s twoAll snuggled up real tight.But I’ve learned a lesson Through the yearsI’m sure this theory’s true.A pair of socks can’t stand the thoughtOf being together as two.So one by one they sneak awayTo find a place that’s better.To nestle alone in a sleeve or a drawerOr under a bed strewn with litter.Where they can snooze and tease and playAlone. Do you think it’s quite fair?Tell me why, if they cherish their solitude,Do they bother to come as a pair?Whenever I’m doing laundry, I glance at the poem on my wall, remember our giant 25 gallon bin filled with mismatched socks, and reminisce about all the fun and wacky things that made us Cadys.

~ Susan (#4)

This was originally posted 05/29/17 at: http://crazycadysisters.blogspot.com/2017/05/ode-to-mismatched-sock.html

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